I am driving myself insane, and wasting precious time I should be enjoying with my 5 month old baby, after convincing myself I have cancer.
My mother died very suddenly of ovarian cancer a few weeks before our baby was born this summer (she's our first and likely only child as we are both in our forties and had tried to get pregnant for years before this miracle natural conception).
My mother's symptoms, looking back, were textbook ovarian - vague discomfort, leading to more defined pain in side, abdomen and back etc. Ultimately huge bloating, considerable weight loss, no appetite, breathlessness and odema when finally her GP saw what had been staring the rest of us in the face for months - my mother was gravely ill.
After she died I made the mistake of reading her diary and discovered she had clearly felt herself to be seriously ill for more than a year. Her records of symptoms had become increasingly detailed and tragic and her repeated plea for it to "all go away" was heart rending.
My mother had suffered from health anxiety her whole life and I had always considered myself lucky (and if I'm honest, slightly superior) to have avoided inheriting it. Perhaps this was why none of us initially took my mother's symptoms seriously, and I'd include her GP in that. She was sent for physiotherapy several times before finally being referred for an ultrasound. The day she was diagnosed I was with her in the little room, hiding behind a curtain as she was given an internal exam. I will never forget the consultant's calm assertion that she definitely had cancer, "it's just not clear what kind or how far gone it is". Heavily pregnant, tired and thirsty after several hours waiting around with her to be seen, and utterly terrified, I felt my world cave in.
The following four weeks saw me spend every afternoon with her in hospital - she barely spoke, looked like a corpse and the entire thing made me feel as if I was going slightly mad. My husband and I were on our way to a routine afternoon visit when I received a call to come immediately - and by the time we arrived she had passed away due to a clot on the lung. I discovered that her cancer was terminal and had spread to her liver. Facts she had elected not to share.
I went into labour the day after mum's funeral and my baby was born 8 weeks early although she is now mercifully thriving and glows with health. We were flown 400 miles away from home to a different hospital there being no neonatal beds here and were flown to a second location also far from home before finally being sent back to our local hospital. I contracted a severe post operative infection and the whole maternity NHS experience was horrific.
Everyone has complimented me on how well I've coped since getting the baby home and indeed the first 4 months sped by in a happy daze. I was occasionally nagged by a sense of guilt as I really didn't feel all that sad about my mother's death - in fact I am ashamed to admit I felt free to do what I pleased and reach out to other mums rather than spend all my time with her which I suspect is what I'd have done had things remained as they were before. I also felt relieved I didn't have to constantly defend my husband who my mum had never particularly liked, and who's parenting skills would doubtless have come under the microscope and been found wanting in myriad small ways. Instead I filled my time with the baby and just falling in love with her along with my fantastic husband. So far, so good.....
Then a little over 6 weeks ago, I saw my GP with severe abdo pain and she had an ambulance come take me straight to hospital. They checked me over, including transvaginal ultrasound and urine test and decided I had a severe UTI. In a horrible twist of fate I was admitted to the same ward as my mother had died in and was seen by the same registrar who had initially diagnosed her. I couldn't wait to get home, not least as I was aware my husband and his mother were doing their best with baby but couldn't really go on for long like that - husband had lots of time off work already with mum's illness and death and the early birth and my mother in law is elderly and not in the best of health herself.
But once home I just couldn't shake fear that the hospital had missed something. I continued to feel rotten, even after three courses of different antibiotics and my symptoms have settled into a nagging, constant pain in my lower left abdomen and intermittent bouts of nausea and just generally feeling rotten. I've found a small, hard painful lump higher up on my abdomen, nowhere near the site of the nagging pain, and the right side of my abdo appears slightly swollen. I've also got pain in my hip joints. Of course, none of this stops me getting around. I walk miles pushing the baby in her buggy, lift her and play with her all day (she's 15lbs) and apparently give everyone around me the impression I'm superhuman. My appetite is ok, I pick at sensible meals then immediately go and eat a box of chocolates so it's not as if I'm full or unable to eat, just want junk food. Mentally....well, I'm preparing a file for the baby so she'll have my guidance on things like love, schooling and her future for when I'm not around and I keep making my husband promise things like that he'll make sure she writes thank you notes when she's older and I'm "not around to make her". I've spent her first Christmas in a haze, constantly excusing myself to go and check my abdomen to see if the small lump and the swollen right side are still there and I've poured over any photos which include me for signs that I look ill.
My GP is fantastic and has resolutely not made me feel like a pest. She has called my fears rational which is more than I do myself. She has run full bloods (normal, apart from slight iron deficiency) and had the CA125 for ovarian (also normal). Of course, I've read up and discovered that this test is far from reliable and even with the previous clear ultrasound can often miss early cancer. I've decided that if it's not ovarian then it's stomach or bowel cancer. In short, I've moved on from inherited condition to just any old cancer.
I've an appointment with a general surgery consultant later this week. Have BUPA so have full rein to indulge my paranoia. I am aware that he might schedule tests including an endoscopy and I can't believe that I'd be willing to submit to something so unpleasant, or to procedures which may mean I'm away from home and unable to care for my daughter. However I also know that wild horses wouldn't stop me attending that appointment, nor any follow up consultations. I'm disgusted with myself and terrified for myself in equal parts.
God, this has gone on but it's refreshing to see it all down in black and white.
I'd love to hear from anyone with similar symptoms, anyone with specialised knowledge of my symptoms (just in case they really are something to worry about) or anyone who'd just like to give me some advice.
I cannot talk about this to anyone. I have an absolute horror of confiding and could not share with any of my friends. My mum was the only person I could have spoken to and I'd have listened to her. Funny as it may seem, considering she was not a health care professional, I took her diagnosis as gospel in all things and had she said it's nothing to worry about, that would have been it.
Just to round out the background, both sides of my family are fairly nurotic and alcoholism, anxiety and depression are not uncommon going back generations. Both of my brothers have suffered from varying degrees of health anxiety and severe low self esteem for years leading one to marry someone as anxious as himself and the other to use heroin although he is currently clean. I wouldn't have said I had suffered HE until this year and still don't feel low self esteem is a problem.
Thanks for your patience of you've got to the end of this rambling thread. God bless.
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